


the right one for you

by ArgentLives



Series: Across Every Universe (You are Home) [14]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Jealous Iris, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4868120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry is perfectly entitled to be in a relationship. That's not what's bothering her. No, what's bothering her, what she's not ready to admit, is that she really wishes that relationship would be with <em>her</em>. Not Becky fucking Cooper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the right one for you

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: "Things keep happening to his girlfriend, Becky Cooper, and Barry just thinks it's bad luck. Jealous!Iris"
> 
> (doesn’t really follow the prompt exactly; mostly just Jealous!Iris)

She slammed her tray down with unnecessary force, causing a few stray french fries to go flying off the edge and scattering across the table. There was sort of an unspoken rule about lunch seats this far into the school year, and that was that even though they weren’t assigned, they weren’t supposed to change. Groups were solidified, everyone was settled into their own structured, steady rhythm, and while the table you sat at might not always be the same, the arrangement always was—unless, of course, something significant happened, like a falling out or a transfer student or a schedule change. Yeah, she conceded, as she swung her legs angrily over the seat, there were some exceptions.

Becky fucking Cooper was not an exception.

And yet, here she was, sitting right in Iris’s spot. The same spot she had occupied for as long as she’d been in school, every time her lunch period happened to line up with Barry’s—which wasn’t all the time, of course, but still. Always on his left, always by his side. (She’d picked the left when they were younger and just getting to know each other because she was right-handed, and it had given her a definite advantage when stealing his food and poking his arm or stepping on his foot just to bother him. Still did). That space was hers, and hers alone. It was normal, it was expected, it was an undisputed fact that the two of them, despite their different friends, had always been attached at the hip. And here stupid Becky Cooper was with the goddamn nerve to try and take her place.

 _Take her place._  She didn’t like the sound of that, as though the thought was some ominous premonition. It didn’t even cross her mind that Becky was Barry’s  _girlfriend_ , not trying to be his best friend, and Becky couldn’t really take her place as the former seeing as Iris had never actually occupied that role in the first place.

“Geez, Iris. Did the test not go well or something?”

Her frown deepened as she sulked, glaring daggers at the unsavory looking piece of chicken on the tray before her. Why had she insisted on buying lunch today, anyway? The french fries weren’t worth it and the chicken looked downright inedible, and maybe if she hadn’t she could’ve gotten to the table sooner and this whole little…misunderstanding…could have been avoided altogether.

“Test? What—Oh,” she sighed, lifting her head to meet Barry’s concerned gaze—which she could do because _she was sitting fucking across from him_ instead of _next to him_ because of  _fucking Becky Cooper_ and—right. Test. She’d been stressing about her chemistry exam all week, but the thought of it had completely slipped her mind in her anger. “Oh, no. It went really well, actually.” She pursed her lips, determined to hold back the ‘thanks to your help’ on the tip of her tongue. True, he’d been helping her study nonstop for days for this test, but right now there was someone else sitting in her spot, and she was pissed as hell. Why was he just letting it happen? It felt like a punch in the gut. A betrayal.

“Good, I’m glad,” Barry flashed her a smile she refused to return. His grin faltered as he took in her stony silence, the angry set of her mouth, the aggression in the way she tore open a packet of ketchup to squirt on her french fries. “Iris, is something else wrong? And don’t say no, because I can tell there is. I know that look.”

“Everything’s fine, Bartholomew,” she snapped, taking vindictive pleasure in the way his eyebrows shot up at the use of his full name, at the whispered  _‘Oooo, someone’s in trouble,’_ byher ear from Mina, her friend and teammate, sitting to her right. Everyone, especially Barry, knew she only whipped out his full name when she was feeling in a particularly teasing mood, when she was using at leverage for something, or when she was spectacularly angry. It was pretty clear which one she was at the moment.

“Iris what…?” The kicked-puppy expression that crossed his face was enough to make her regret taking her anger out on him. This was Barry’s first girlfriend, she reminded herself. It was probably all new and exciting, maybe even enough so that he’d let that excitement cloud his better judgement. She should be happy for him.

“Sorry, just…bad day, I guess.”

“Oh,” he frowned, reaching across the table, no doubt to grab her hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rub his thumb over her knuckles like he always did when she was stressed or upset, but his hand stilled halfway at the not-so-subtle little cough from beside him. He tore his gaze away from Iris, concern melting into shock, eyes darting from the murderous expression on Becky’s face to the hand she’d just placed on his bicep, fingers wrapping around his arm and nails piercing his skin in disapproval, before drawing his hand back quickly and hiding it underneath the table.

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, shooting Becky another nervous look, before finally settling on a tentative smile and an “I’m sorry to hear that,” instead of his customary ‘What’s wrong?’ or ‘What happened?’ or ‘Want to talk about it?’

She felt a twinge of anger bubble up in her chest again as Becky directed Barry’s attention back to herself, engaging him in a conversation about the science club’s most recent project, at how Barry  _allowed_  his attention to be directed away from Iris, and stabbed her chicken with her fork to distract herself.

“Iris, honey, you okay?” Mina asked, eyeing her with concern, but before Iris could open her mouth to respond, an ugly peal of laughter captured her attention. She didn’t bother to conceal her glare as she watched Becky throw her head back, reaching out to grab Barry’s arm as she laughed far too loudly—really, knowing Barry it had probably been a science pun or something and it could  _not_ havebeen  _that_  funny,  _Jesus Christ—_ and leaned into Barry, reaching up a hand to run through his hair. Iris clenched her fists so tight the plastic fork she was holding splintered in her grip, and when Becky craned her neck to place a sloppy kiss on Barry’s cheek, well. She practically saw red.

She stood abruptly, surprised by her own anger, the blood rushing to her face and her heartbeat in her ears, far too fast and far too loud for her liking.

“Hey, you okay? You don’t look too good, Iris.”

She shook her head and refused to meet Mina’s eyes, feeling her stomach give another uncomfortable lurch. “I just—I don’t feel well. I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

It was a convincing cover, considering she did feel slightly sick at the sight of Barry and Becky’s interlocked hands underneath the table. It was like some awful trap—look up, and witness the disgusting PDA, or look down, and see them fucking holding hands and playing footsies under the table. Before she could look away, as her gaze flickered back up to the couple’s happy faces, Becky caught her eye. From the look on her face, it was clear the–the  _jerk_  knew Iris had been staring. Was it just her imagination, or was Becky seriously _smirking_  at her? 

Iris bit her lip, hesitating for a moment, tearing her gaze away from Becky’s smug, knowing grin and directing it to the open water bottle she’d left on the table in front of her, cap twisted off and long forgotten. She made up her mind quickly, positioning her bag on her shoulder so that when she turned, it knocked over the bottle of water, straight onto Becky’s lap.

Becky’s shouts of indignation as Iris apologized for  _accidentally_  knocking the bottle over and getting her soaking wet were enough to bring the smile back to her face as she turned on her heel with one last fake ‘sorry’ and booked it to the bathroom, wondering why she still felt so angry in the first place.

 

* * *

 

School was tiring. Practice right afterward was even more tiring. So when Iris got home, ready to crash and nap for an hour or maybe five, finding that it was already occupied by two very flustered looking teenagers quite aggressively making out was  _not_  something she wanted to see.

She slammed the door so loud they jumped apart, Becky straightening up from her position on the couch to glare at her and Barry doing his best to sink lower into it. She could already see that familiar redness creeping into his cheeks.

“Sorry,” she said flatly, not at all meaning it. “Must be a draft in here or something.”

Barry cleared his throat awkwardly and said in a small voice, “Iris, I, uh, I thought you were staying after for cheer-leading practice?”

“I was. I did. I’m home now. Oh, and FYI, my dad will be home any minute. He just called from the station to say he was leaving.” The last part wasn’t true, of course—her dad probably wouldn’t be home for another few hours, but she didn’t really feel too bad for lying when she noticed the purplish marks just beginning to bloom on Barry’s neck, his familiar plaid shirt unbuttoned and askew and his hair all messy and tussled, and the smeared state of Becky’s lipstick, the way her skirt was rucked up her thighs.

“Joe is… _what_?” Barry all but squeaked, eyes widening in horror. He rolled off the couch, landing on the floor with an ungraceful  _thump_ , before scrambling back to his feet. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry Beck, but you gotta go. Joe would kill me if…well…”

Becky huffed, sending another pointed glare in Iris’s direction, before smoothing down her skirt and gathering up her things, stomping towards the door and tripping over Iris’s backpack in the process, (which she so hadn’t put there on purpose, positioned in exactly the right place right in front of the door, of  _course_ not). As soon as Becky had gotten back to her feet and shut the door behind her, Iris turned to face the couch again, practically shaking with anger, a tense silence filling the room as she stared Barry down. He attempted to straighten himself up before looking back at her with trepidation, refusing to back down. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Iris cleared her throat loudly.

“I’m telling him.”

“What? Why?” Barry’s mouth fell open in shock, his eyes widening in disbelief. Of all the things he’d expected her to say, it clearly hadn’t been about ratting him out. “Iris, you wouldn’t. You know that’s not fair—I never told Joe about all the people you’ve dated, or even the time I walked in on you and Jesse, um, you know—”

“This is different,” she spat, cutting him off, the moment and the horrifying embarrassment that had resulted on both ends still painfully ingrained into her memory. “I wasn’t getting it on with  _Becky Cooper_ , of all people, on the living room couch.”

“I wasn’t—we weren’t—okay, whatever. I don’t get why it’s any of your concern, really. I mean, why do you hate her so much, anyway?”

The question took her off guard, and she lifted an eyebrow at him in confusion. “Who, Becky? I don’t…I don’t  _hate_ her.”

“Yeah, you really do. I mean, you do nothing but make rude comments about her and you say her name all weird like you just did just now, like it’s something…dirty, I don’t know.”

“I—” she was about to say ‘ _I do not_ ’, but the words died on her lips as she thought about it because yeah—she kind of did. She floundered for words, suddenly desperate to explain herself. “It’s not…I don’t mean…um…”

“I just—I wanna know, is there a reason for it? Like…” Barry rubbed the back of his neck, staring at Iris’s shoes, before looking up to peer at her through his lashes. The look he gave her was strange: frustrated, quizzical, searching, and…was it just her imagination, or was it just a tad bit…hopeful? “You’re not…jealous, are you?”

The word seemed to echo throughout the living room and inside Iris’s head, bouncing around and making something in her chest clench, something she hadn’t even known was there. She wasn’t…she couldn’t actually be jealous of Becky Cooper, she assured herself, balling her hands into fists. No—not a chance.

“Jealous?” she scoffed, throwing in an incredulous little laugh for good measure, laying it on thick and hoping Barry hadn’t notice the way her voice had cracked. Really, she shouldn’t be trying so hard, because the prospect of her being jealous of Becky Cooper  _was_  ridiculous…right? And yet, she felt stomach squirm uncomfortably at the thought, because _wow–_ that word hit way closer to home then it should’ve, and…no, this was Barry, her best friend, she just wanted him to be happy and–she couldn’t be jealous…could she? Certainly not of his romantic life… She swallowed hard and feigned disinterest, waving a hand in the air and rolling her eyes. “Please, why on Earth would I be jealous of your  _girlfriend_?”

“I—no reason. I mean, of course you wouldn’t,” Barry grumbled, crossing his arms, suddenly looking very miserable and doing a poor job at hiding it. “Just forget it. It was a stupid question. I’m just gonna–I’m going upstairs, okay? Tell Joe whatever you want, I don’t care. I doubt he’d even believe you, anyway. No one expects anyone to be interested in me like that, anyway.”

Iris stood there, taken aback, but before she could find her voice again to respond, to tell him that of course she wasn’t  _actually_ going to say anything, he’d already hefted his backpack over his shoulder, striding over to the staircase to take the steps two at a time. She considered calling after him, but decided against if as she heard a door slam. Making her way over to the couch Barry and his  _girlfriend_  (and wow–did she always think of the word with such venom? why was she just noticing it now?) had recently vacated, she sat down hard, unsure of what exactly it was she was feeling. Was that anger making her stomach churn, frustration making her cheeks heat up, making her palms feel sweaty? Or was it guilt? Regret? One thing was for sure, she thought to herself, dropping her head in her hands and heaving a sigh–she was definitely confused.

 

* * *

 

“Where’s Becky?” Iris asked Barry at lunch a couple of weeks after ‘the couch incident’, bitterly taking the seat across from Barry at the lunch table, the seat she’d unfortunately been forced to come to terms with sitting in as long as the Beckster was around, making a conscious effort to keep the dislike out of her voice. She really was trying. God, the things she did for this boy. “She sick or something?”

“Oh, no, we broke up,” Barry stated bluntly, shrugging his shoulders and picking absentmindedly at his sandwich, as casual as if he’d just told her the weather.

“Oh.” Iris blinked in surprise, a strange feeling rushing through her and making her feel a little light-headed, one she dutifully tried to tamp down when her mind supplied the word ‘relief’.  _Get a grip, West,_  she scolded herself.  _You don’t know what happened yet. And you shouldn’t be feeling relieved that your best friend is single again. That’s just–oh my god._ “What…?”

“I broke up with her,” he clarified, reading the question in her eyes.

“Okay, not that I’m complaining, but…why?”

“Well, you were right. She was kind of a nightmare. I mean, God, where do I begin. She was super controlling, especially about–well, about you. Like, she didn’t want me spending time with you, but you’ve been my best friend for as long as I’ve known you, so I don’t know how she thought that was going to work out. And she would threaten to break up with me every time I didn’t want to do exactly what she wanted to do. She was a pro at guilt-tripping.”

Iris gaped at him, torn between relief that he’d ended it, that he’d finally seen the light, annoyance and a stab of anger that he’d never told her any of this when they always told each other everything, and horror that he’d put up with Becky’s shit for so long.

“That’s—wow. I’m sorry. And…I’m not going to say I told you so, but…okay, I totally told you so. I  _knew_ she was awful. I could feel it in my bones. And you know how my gut feelings usually are. Always right.”

Barry rolled his eyes at her, taking a bite from his sandwich and swallowing with a grimace. “Yeah, well, no need to rub it in. Excuse me for being excited that someone was actually interested in me for once.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Iris relented, reaching across the table to lay a comforting hand over his, reveling in the fact that she could do so openly again, without hearing the tell-tale tongue-clicking noise of disapproval from she-who-must-not-be-named. “You deserve better, Bear, I mean it. Someone who really acknowledges and appreciates what an amazing guy you are.”

“Ah, well, thanks,” Barry mumbled, ducking his head to hide his smile and keeping his gaze fixed on the table, the tell-tale redness in his cheeks giving him away. Iris felt a strange flutter in her stomach at the sight of him blushing, and she frowned at the way the familiar graze of Barry thumb over her knuckles as he shifted their hands so that his was on top made her skin tingle. _What was going on with her?_  

She felt someone nudge her in the side, and looked over to find Mina giving her a pointed look, raising an eyebrow at her and then gesturing towards Barry—no, towards the empty spot  _next_ to Barry. Iris grinned in understanding and mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to her friend, who gave her a thumbs up in return. She pulled her hand out from underneath Barry’s, pushed her bagged lunch over to him, and ducked underneath the table.

“Iris, wha—?” he started to ask, startled, but before he could finish his question she’d popped up by his side, nearly making him topple backwards in surprise. She clambered onto the seat, righting herself before turning to him with a playful smirk.

“Well, is this seat taken?” She felt her grin widen as she watched the realization dawn on him, the sudden brightness in his eyes, the slow, goofy smile that spread across his face.

“Nope, not at all. Please. It’s all yours,” he paused before knocking a shoulder into hers, eyes going soft. “Always will be.”

“Good. That’s what I thought.”

 _As it should be,_  she thought to herself, reaching over to steal a chip from the bag Barry’d just opened, feeling lighter and more content than she had in weeks. _As it should be be._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my [tumblr](http://bisexualiriswest.tumblr.com/), as most of these prompt fills are.


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